Frocks
by ineffablediann
Summary: When a masque turns into so much more. John's first time in 18th century dress. Pairings so far: John/Sherlock, Mycroft/Lestrade, Irene/John/Sherlock (same chpt also written John/Sherlock as well). Thinking of continuing with the ladies... Masquerade, Established Relationships, Role-play, Kink (slight)
1. Chapter 1

"You're in my stars you know  
Don't need no crystal ball to tell me so  
Whispering in the air  
Hoping that my words find you somewhere  
Even when I close my eyes  
I'll never recreate the Time that flies  
The consequence is hanging there  
The sky will fall but I don't care

Meet me beneath my balcony and say  
No one but you could ever fill my night  
Be the sunlight in my every day  
Underneath my balcony I'll say  
No one but you could ever fill my night  
Be the sunlight in my every day

Your love is haunting me  
And all I want is more to set me free  
Whispering in the air  
Hoping that my words find you somewhere  
Do you hear me call your name  
I know we will never be the same  
The consequence is hanging there  
The sky will fall but I don't care..."

Juliet- Emilie Autumn

* * *

Running in earnest through the hedges, he knew his quarry would soon be caught. He could almost hear the rushed thoughts of light terror running through the cold evening air.

"I will get you yet…Do not believe you have out foxed me. I know these gardens like the back of my hands John Hamish!"

* * *

"I cannot believe that I have allowed you to talk me into going to my parents Masquerade," Sherlock whined, "Why is it that you would want to go in the first place?"

"I don't know Sherlock, why did you want to be a pirate when you grew up?" The doctor laughed, "Because the idea is exhilarating. That is why." John smiled happily leaning into his lovers warm body. "Besides, I figured you would love the anticipation involved. We are going to be separated to different area's of the manor so we will have to use _deduction_ to find one another again."

Given that slant, the idea did begin to seem intriguing. His mummy had sent all the invitations to John since he never answered any of his post. She had even begun to address them strictly to Hamish, the prat. Sherlock was very much amused by the relationship that had bloomed between his husband and his parents, especially the conspiratorial one that cropped up between Mummy and he.

"I'm just pleased that the men do not have to wear the wigs really. Being in full eighteenth century regalia will be quite interesting; I wonder how long it will take me to seduce you out of your stays and garters my courtesan…" he practically purred into his lover's ear.

"Want to make this a _game_ of courtly love, do we Hamish? I must warn you, I will win." Relaxing into his lover's embrace further allowing John to have more access to his ear and neck. "I will be able to pick you out and woo you within the first half hour. Then I will tease you mercilessly until you beg for me to take you somewhere more secluded."

"Thirty minutes? Well there are several variables I suppose. I can see how that might slow you down."

* * *

The last Saturday in October was bright, but chilled. The family had extended the invitation to include an extended weekend for both of their boys. They knew it was the only way to be able to spend quality time Sherlock and John, as they tended to be frenetically busy. Mycroft stopped by once every couple of weeks with new tales of his younger brother's heroism, sometimes Gregory was able to join him. It was wonderful to have them all together every great once in awhile.

"So what are my two young men doing to entertain themselves until the festivities tonight?" Jacqueline Holmes queried, "Has John seen the gardens since the fall planting?"

"No, mum. I am going to give him a full tour later in preparation for the ball tonight; I'd hate for him to get lost."

"And why ever would he choose to lose himself one wonders?" She retorted jovially. Linking hands with her husband, she continued, "I remember when your father and I used to get 'lost' conveniently at times as well."

Siger raised his beautiful wife's hand and brushed it with his lips. "I always found you though dearest. Always will." Looking back towards the four younger men he gave them a mischievous look, "Now I want _all_ of you to behave tonight. No motley behavior, at least until most of the guests are gone. Then you can play 'Shining Knight' all you want."

"Ah, but that is the military man you are coming through. Sherlock learned quite a veritable of tactics he uses even today from you. Also explains his weakness for our doctor." Jacqueline laugh was effervescent.

Standing she went to take her leave of the table. "Now John, please make sure that you come by for your finery close to your allotted time. If you would like, you may stay in my wing as Sherlock will not be allowed anywhere near you to 'sneak' an impression. Then, you can join me for tea."

"Yes, mum. I would enjoy that immensely." John genuinely liked this woman, but how could he not. Sherlock had all of her grace and much of her beauty.

"Violet, John Hamish, call me Violet. You may be my child, but you may still use my family name."

* * *

Sherlock and John whiled through his mother's gardens that early afternoon. They had a hamper set up for them under the waning trellised rose garden. It was one of Sherlock's favorite spots. It had been slowly been being filled in with looser less formal garden arrangements of lobelia, goldenrod, and anemone. Vibrant, but cottage in feel.

"So, Hamish, you ready for this evenings festivities?" How Sherlock loved to tease this man, "You do know I will have you in this spot right here tonight under the stars."

"How do you know it will not be I who does the taking lover, I am quite persuasive," John quipped. "And, as your mum pointed out, I am a military man. Covert-ops and all. I did invade Afghanistan remember?"

"Because beloved, I was raised here. I also will have you running because I feel like a chase tonight. You will be thrilled and terrified for me to catch you. I am sorry to say that in this situation, you are slightly undermined."

"We shall see Sherlock, we shall see."

* * *

Later that evening, John looked at himself in the expansive Cheval mirror. He was transformed into a proper Englishman with clothing bespoke for him. Beautiful emerald brocade with black velvet trim that matched his breeches. Cream linen shirt with plenty of fuss, black brocade vest. Onyx inlaid gold links, buttons; buckles on his shoes to match. Soft hose the same cream as his shirt. Majestic black tricorn hat. His mask was a grotesque. Cream inlaid with green and black crystals set off by the gold filigree.

"Priceless," came the whisper from the hall. "I didn't mean to interrupt John, I was just wondering if you could escort me in a few moments," Jacqueline requested. "I need to have you come by my chambers quickly though, we need our family photographer to memorialize this. I have just finished our shoot with Siger and the boys. We will be doing yours tomorrow, all of you." With laughter in her voice she added, "So do not ruin your clothing tonight or I will be very put out!"

Their laughter rang down her halls to catch up with the other four Holmes men. "Well mummy is entertained. Do you really think it will take that long for you to figure out which frock John is in Shirley?"

"No, My, I do not think it will take that long, but I want him to work himself up. You must understand the anticipation is half of the fun of the chase." Sherlock sighed, "I just wish I would have gotten to see the look on his face the first time he saw himself in the mirror. Did I tell you this is the first Masque he's ever been to?"

* * *

The debauched unhinged giggle ghosted over the hedges, not that far from where he was. He knew he was being herded, but could do nothing about it.

Damn his lover.

He was better at this than John had first suspected. Crouched, he sprung again heading toward the rose garden. If he could make it there before his lover, maybe he stood a chance of surprise. Maybe he could actually get out of the garden and force Sherlock's hand in their rooms instead.

Swiftly sprinting, he was thankful for the jewel tones he was wearing. Helped him blend a bit. Sherlock was in his signature multi-tonal deep blues that he favored. He didn't need to see the face beneath the mask to know. John had spotted him only two hours ago.

* * *

He was standing by one of the halls pillars discussing one of their recent cases when he felt the hairs on his neck prickle evilly. Looking around as casually as possible, he saw him across the room.

Knew he had been caught. Set him instantly on edge. His lover had not let go of his eyes, demanding to be seen. Gliding up, he had not said a word, only offered his hand and pulled the doctor out on to the floor into the waltz. He never dropped his gaze. Even when Sherlock began purposely brushing him during the dance exchanges. A brush of the hip, wayward touch of his fingers.

_'Two could play this game,' _John thought. He very quickly learned how wrong he was.

During the turns, a caress, when it necessitated touching more force was applied. A stroke to the arm at a hand off, gripping of a hip before just a swiftly releasing. Sherlock worked his husband into a minor frenzy he didn't think possible, especially with the extra layers of the proper dress. After the last round, his husband escorted him to the cool open terrace, found a darkened corner, and ravaged his mouth. Sherlock commanded his husband's body; he was its master. Just as swiftly, Sherlock collected himself and led them back out on the floor for another round.

_Oh sweet Jesus, he was not going to last through the night._

Finally he broke away by sheer chance. This dance had required exchanges of partners, and he had been closest to the garden doors. In hind sight, Sherlock had probably known and positioned in such a way to allow him to escape. That made this even more maddening. He turned, beautifully and went the opposite way and exited the room hugging the shadows. He knew at most he would get a five minute lead as Sherlock was to gracious to not finish the current dance.

So he fled into the night, like a courtesan who had been out maneuvered and knew it was time to pay the price the Lord of the manor demanded. He was well and proper chuffed.

_Exhilarated._

_Thrilled and hunted._

_By his husband in a moonlit garden._

_In period garb._

This hit so many unknown desires in John he felt he would explode. So run he did, alighting from the greenhouse to the hedges. That's when the chase began in earnest. John knew that Sherlock had been tracking him. He could feel the heat of eyes upon him, but never sighted his lover.

* * *

"John Hamish!" Sherlock called, "I am coming to claim you! Quake with fear!" Then all at once, maniacal, unhinged glee.

Making the sprint to the arbor had been easy, he was resting for a moment, watching for movement outside of the trellised area.

He never heard a thing.

All at once he was in long forceful arms, wrapped closely with only breath between him and his husband. Then Sherlock claimed that as well. Set him instantly on fire. John couldn't understand how he hadn't combusted internally there was so much passion being driven into him. So much desire. His lover was brutal. Ripping off his hat and throwing it to the wind Sherlock entwined his fingers in John's hair and pulled hard yanking to expose his husbands throat. Raking his Adam's apple with his teeth he settled just to the left and forced a lovely bloom to appear marking John.

"Quake love... you left me to wait to long," Sherlock continued assaulting him. Pulling, untucking his shirt, flying the enclosures free of his vest rapidly, unlacing John's breeches. He was a whirlwind. Trying to sooth with words while he ravaged his beloved, "I can not stand it, you are too lovely tonight." Pushing his shirt from navel immediately to his throat and holding it there pinning it and John with his forearm against the trellis. Biting, sucking, tasting the apprehension, terror, exhilaration on his love. "So fine, Hamish, so wonderful."

Roughly undoing his own stays, he looked at John, greed in his eyes. Using his other hand, he slowly reached into his pocket and smiled lasciviously pulling out a packet of lubrication. Kissing John deeply then a scant inch away from his mouth he took the corner of the packet and tore it open, never breaking his hold or his gaze. "Breeches off now," is all he said as he back away enough to prep himself.

John undid the stays on his knees and dropped them to the ground, kicking them to the side. Before he could look back up his lover had once again captured him, yanking one of his knees up to his waist to give him more access to John two fingers instantly entering him working him pushing him to open. All he could do was cry out. Sherlock instantly silenced him with his mouth, continuing the barrage.

Dipping, he roughly grabbed his beloved and hitched him up high on the trellis wall, positioning himself his head just starting to penetrate John. "Hamish," His husband whispered it like a prayer and then took his mouth and drove into him. Flying completely unhinged, he drove deep into his love. Breaking the kiss, he moved to the other side of John's neck biting while brutally driving them to completion. "I fucking cannot stand how beautiful you are tonight," Sherlock heatedly panted. Holding John by his hips he pumped him until the sensation was too much, to bright. "I'm going to make you come with me Hamish, watch you fly to bits right before my eyes." He moved them from the wall to the blanket he had lain out in preparation. Cradling his husbands hip, he hitched and slammed their bodies together causing just enough friction to cause John to explode. Raising back, he took his beloved by the hand and forcing John to climax half a stroke before him.

"Oh, love, that's it, come for me."


	2. Chapter 2

"If you wait for me then I'll come for you

Although I've traveled far

I always hold a place for you in my heart

If you think of me if you miss me once in awhile

Then I'll return to you

I'll return and fill that space in your heart

Remembering

Your touch

Your kiss

Your warm embrace

I'll find my way back to you

If you'll be waiting

If you dream of me like I dream of you

In a place that's warm and dark

In a place where I can feel the beating of your heart

Remembering

Your touch

Your kiss

Your warm embrace

I'll find my way back to you

If you'll be waiting

I've longed for you and I have desired

To see your face your smile

To be with you wherever you are

Remembering

Your touch

Your kiss

Your warm embrace

I'll find my way back to you

Please say you'll be waiting

Together again

It would feel so good to be in your arms

Where all my journeys end

If you can make a promise if it's one that you can keep

I vow to come for you

If you wait for me

And say you'll hold

A place for me

I in your heart…"

The Promise- Tracy Chapman

* * *

"Shhh; I will be so very fair with you gentle sir."

Mycroft cornered Gregory. A wild and free gait to his stride. Unparalleled passion in his voice.

"I will only flog you if you try to escape me."

"But M'lord, I was not trying to…"

"Hush I said. I will own my new stallion this eve…I shall show you unbridled."

* * *

Mycroft noticed John first.

It was as if electricity had fused him to the ground. His brother-in-law was watching his husband's deliberately predatorial gait transfixed. This amused their older brother to no end. Reaching slightly behind him, he touched Gregory's elbow to get his attention.

Lestrade looked over his shoulder in askance, Mycroft indicated.

The two had silent communication down to a hard science. Both of them softly smiled at the same time. Mycroft took his eyes off for just a second to share the radiating mirth with his husband before watching the theatrics the younger Holmes' were creating.

Of course everyone else missed it. Only six, maybe ten people here could even come close to picking out what was going on, even then only four understood the graveness of the situation. This was a dance of seduction, not to woo, but to conquer. At least this didn't fall under the category of 'motley' behavior per se, but he also knew his brother's singular mind.

_It would be an interesting night indeed._

Lestrade took that moment to lean back into My, knowing he would enjoy the contact without being obvious. As a result, the eldest Holmes slid his hand gracefully into a resting position from his waist to hang comfortably. Gregory softly brushed fingertips with his lover. They had their own silent language that no one else knew. No one ever would.

Watching the two younger men out there amused him. He remembered that unreserved passion for one's lover; not to say they had cooled, but they were forged, honed. The other two were still young and untested in the ways of the world, everything was new.

Adjusting weight to his rear heel, he purposely brushed Gregory with a little insistence before heading to one of the purposely darkened corners of the room. Tonight was all by candlelight by design.

To be out in the open, but unexposed. To be able to watch, but be in the shadows, this appealed. This was a mirror image of their life.

* * *

My took a moment to lounge, watching his two brothers wrest for dominance in a very intricate dance.

He had to applaud them. Very controlled for so young in a relationship; but he can clearly see that Sherlock is leading John, teaching him the rules. He wondered if that was the inverse of what happened behind closed doors, how he picked up that particular trait. It was very good. He would have to complement Shirley later.

Now it was time to court his own husband. He had already loosed the last fastener of his vest and the first stay of his breeches. He made good use of the chaise, positioning himself perfectly. Mycroft knew his husband would read him properly well before he got near. He was glad that they had chosen the Columbina style. Low profile, fitted, it will give marvelous access and options to them.

* * *

Gregory gave an appreciative hum as he glided over to his spouse. His lover all dressed up, putting on a show for him. Glorious champagne colored silks, deep autumnal brocade hand stitched, piped with gold edging on his coat, piping mirrored on the clean silk breeches of My's bespoke clothing. Masterful. His vest that burnt deep citron that Gregory loved so much. He had noticed earlier that evening that his lover had his shoes died to match; that peacock. Lestrade could see the loosed stay peeking out from the lowest undone button in the vest. Mycroft wanted to be taken. Oh yes, but under his terms. Maybe a walk in the garden is what they needed. There were plenty of grottos where much more heated conversation could be acquired.

Gregory came to stand beside the chaise, then took a knee and proffered his hand. With a slight dip of his head he saluted Mycroft, "M'lord, how does your evening fair?"

"Very well. And yours sir?" Mycroft takes the offered hand and lays his fingertips upon it looking away again toward the dancing. Playing the part, enjoying the game.

"Better now that I have your attention," Lestrade gently brushes the nails on his husband's hand with his lips, exhaling deeply warming the skin. Keeping a hold of it, he begins barely nipping at the very tips, willing My to look at him.

"A bit cannibalistic tonight are we?" Teasing his husband gently, "Does one need to feed you more often?" My rolls his hips infinitesimally. Gregory tracks the movement knowing now that tonight is going to be white hot. He is purposely signaling to him. All for love of their game.

"Yes, M'lord. I am a bit _peckish_ tonight."

"One might have to remedy that," Mycroft responded, trying to sound as noncommittal as possible, but settled on slightly bored. "Then again, you are the one that should be catering to me." Leaning forward propped perfectly on his elbow he gazed into his lover's eyes. He had dressed in all silver, deeply wrought and brocaded. A cooling effect, striking with the silver in his hair causing the warmth of his mahogany eyes to shine. Superb. Leaning just a bit farther, he breathed into his lover's ear whispering, "Are you hungry for cock tonight?"

The heat from his husband's breath set a low fire within Lestrade.

Mycroft stood slowly, settling himself then offered his hand to Gregory. Touring the outer edges of the room they left through the solarium for a walk in the night air.

* * *

Tearing through the bracken by the Gardener's greenhouse, Lestrade decides that moment to give a real chase. To the stables it was… My would take a bit to find him there. His heart racing in anticipation he rushed into the dark.

"Sortez, sortez où que vous soyez," Mycroft's voice came ghosting in the night air. "Ma fleur délicate, vous dépérir sans que mon cœur dans cette air de la nuit. Venez à moi maintenant et vous ne serez pas fouetté."

_Damn. He knew how to cause an instantaneous reaction. _

_Wants me to falter, to yield._

_Never._

"Essayez de régner accablant chaleur sur moi, je ne cédera jamais!"

Find me now my husband...

* * *

Earlier, while touring the gardens, they had walked amicably. Mycroft had his husband's arm tucked nicely within his. They were enjoying this moment of togetherness; it was not very often that they could experience each other this way.

Out of nowhere, one lane over in the hedge, Sherlock bounded through crying into the night air, "I will get you yet…Do not believe you have out foxed me!"

Looking at his brothers, giving an unhinged laugh, he darted off toward the rose garden and his prey.

The two elders shared a laugh at the ridiculous quality of the boys and their hunt.

"I bet father is glad we have gone out, to enjoy the night air. He and mummy will likely be running around the manor soon enough. 'Shining Knight' Bless them." Mycroft smiled easily in fondness. "I am so glad that I have you, Gregory."

"Hmm, and I you M'lord," Lestrade was feeling a bit adventurous as well.

_The game. _

_The hunt. _

_These were appealing this evening._

"But I do wonder if you could claim me…" he teased.

_Oh, this would be fun._

"One will give you a four minute start. Go NOW!" Mycroft became luminous.

* * *

Finally, after a sprint, Mycroft caught up to his lover.

_Gregory would yield._

_He would kneel._

_Yes._

* * *

Turning into the stables, he halted, flourishing his coat commandingly.

"Oh, here you are, my precious stallion." Lustily eyeing his prize, Mycroft began undoing the stays to his vest.

"I am no ones thoroughbred, M'lord!" Gregory spat back, feeling the rush of adrenaline and lust mix within himself. A wild and free gait to his stride."You shall not bridle me."

"Shhh," Finishing the last stay, he opened his arms, offering his out stretched hands in supplication. Treating his lover as if he were a startled fresh virgin, "I will be so very fair with you gentle sir, I promise you this."

Mycroft cornered Gregory in that moment.

Unparalleled passion in his voice.

"I will only flog you if you try to escape me." Turning his words into a warning laced with dark intentions.

"But M'lord, I was not trying to…"

"Hush I said. I will own my new stallion this eve. I shall show you _unbridled_." Mycroft turned, grabbing his husband hard and fast, gripping onto his arms, "Oh, sir," his voice becoming reverent, "One has every right and claim to you. Body and soul."

Pulling his husband roughly, he kisses him hard and fast, bruising his lips into a flush. Raking his hands into Lestrade's hair he yanks, bringing the man to his knees. Looking down, he smiles beatifically, claiming his lips once more.

"You_ are _mine!"

Ravishing his mouth, he takes deeply. Biting his husband's jaw, commanding him through force of will to submit. Yanking his head to the side, claiming his neck as his as well Mycroft purrs, "I promised; I'll break you gently if you do not struggle."

"Je ne vais pas soumettre, M'lord," Gregory cries out, "Vous aurez à me casser de votre propre conception!"

"Then I will, break you, bind you to me. I will have you beg…" Claiming his lover's mouth once again, he unties the stays of his breeches, releasing his already lustful cock. Standing, yanking again on Gregory's hair pulling him to look up at his husband, he rubs the taught flesh against his lover's cheek. "…for this, for me."

Lestrade groans into the lush feeling of his husband's cock against his skin. The way it feels on his evening rough cheek. Looking up, his eyes blown with lust, "Break me M'Lord. You are masterful in your desires."

Pulling Lestrade up, he hurls him toward the hay. It has been blanketed to help keep out the damp, making a wonderful bower for slaking need and hot desire. Packed firm, someone had planned ahead for this evenings festivities.

Wondrous.

"You will open to me, Gregory." Biting on his husband's neck once again, taking the man into his arms. Busying himself with loosing his lover's ties and stays he finally touches flesh. Thrilling desire courses through them both. Rubbing against the furled hair on his chest he pulls gently, eliciting a moan from the man beneath him.

"Yes, lover," Kissing where he had just tugged, "unparalleled lust awaits you."

Putting his full weight on his lover, Mycroft pins his chest forcing him to relent to the passionate onslaught. Snaking his hand down, he swiftly handles the remaining stays on both of their breeches. Running his hand around the waist and down the back he grabs the full backside, yanking it forward and grinding mercilessly, in complete control.

"Please…"

Dipping into the cleft, he runs his fingers tantalizingly along the sensitive skin. Raking with his nails he grips the well toned muscle beneath his hand.

"Please, M'lord."

"Mmmm, did you say something?" Mycroft breathed heavily against Lestrade's ear.

"Please have me…"

"Ah, there's a good man," Kissing gently now, "Yes, I will have you."

Pulling the packet of lubrication from his interior breast pocket, he tears it and slicks himself, leaving Lestrade to watch moaning. Yanking his husband's breeches down further, he rolls Lestrade's hips putting his legs over one of his shoulders, pressing into his lover's cleft his hand keeping him steady.

"My heart," he breathes, steadily applying pressure, allowing Lestrade to relax at his own pace. "My soul. Open for me. You are mine." Endeavoring to claim his husband he pushes with a bit more force, just enough to cause a slight shock of pain. "Relent."

Mycroft coaxes, whispering, running his other fingers through his lover's hair. Lestrade opens for him beautifully, moments later. The sheen of sex and need upon them. Full hilt thrusts, deep and angled, the most wonderful friction. "Touch yourself," He commands.

"Holy Christ!" Lestrade cries as his husband dominates him. Filling him, pushing him to frenzy. "My, lover!" He needs to feel his husband's seed within him. "Can't stand it!"

Driving them further, Mycroft is unrelenting. "You will race with me lover. Sodded magnificent bastard! I will loose for you, mine only." Deep and hard they flew together, the wrench from the pull of Mycroft ejaculating sent waves of white blinding light through Gregory pulling him over as well.

Pulling out of his husband, he rolled, pulling him to his side. Grabbing the corner of the woolen blanket, he ensconced them in the warmth. "You flew so beautifully for me tonight, my heart." Raining small loving kisses onto Lestrade's cheek and mouth.

"Love you so, My. Love you so…"

* * *

**Author's notes:**

**This is my first time writing My/Strade. **

**I see their relationship as very deep, very loving,**

**but like a river it may seem calm above**

**but there are a million undercurrents that tow them to the rapids.**


	3. Chapter 3

Entwined

* * *

Bright lights are growing dim  
I wanna hide again  
The nights are cavin' in  
On my coloured bedspread  
I wanna drift so far  
To slip out of the crowd  
It doesn't matter how  
On my coloured bedspread

You make the stars dissolve  
Like sugar melting in my mouth

Some people come and go  
But they won't ever know  
About the things we do  
On my coloured bedspread  
I remember places ive been to  
Remember things I never knew  
Remember dreams that all came true  
On my coloured bedspread

We make the stars collide  
I touch the planets  
Through your eyes

Can you feel it?  
Tell me can you feel it now?

You make the stars dissolve  
Like sugar melting in my mouth

Coloured Bedspread- Annie Lennox

* * *

John's hands moved over his lover's chest, reveling in the feeling of his warmth.

Running his teeth along the sensitive skin of his husband's neck, the doctor nuzzled enjoying the hushed moans and soft shifts of his beloved. They had gotten chilled outside in the garden and had decided to turn in for the night. The comfort of their bed called to them like a siren tantalizing them with the promise of fulfillment. Freeing an arm, he reaches over to tease Irene's breast.

* * *

"Well then I shall court you," John was smiling in earnest. "I shall sequester you in my chamber."

Coming to a full stop, the doctor wheeled around quickly putting his body directly in his husband's path. Using all of his militaristic side, he pulled gathering up the air of authority his position possessed. Bowing deeply, he silently asks for Sherlock's hand. When it is given, he brushes it roughly with his mouth. Looking at Sherlock, his eyes never lose contact; he wants to make sure that his husband understands the predatory gleam. "I will have my way with you, gentle sir."

"Will you have me now? Teach me the wanton desires of the bed?" A deep throaty chuckle passed his lips as Sherlock moves to kiss his beloved. John arrests the movement instantly. Gripping his lover tightly on his arms he smiled wolfishly in warning.

"Run, my beautiful," A deliciously evil grin begins crossing the doctor's face. "Run as your life depended on it!"

* * *

The bower was beautiful that night.

All candlelight and sheen. Calla's everywhere.

Very romantic.

Set for seduction.

She waited patiently knowing she had to look like a magnificent present for the both of her men. The only woman either of them would ever have.

The only woman they would ever need.

Beautiful coral dress with gold piping, ornate cream corset wrought with flowers of every color that fastened into the bodice. She'd be able to wear it for them all night. Pantaloon the same creamy silk, flowering lace ornately ruffled at the stays by her knees. Beautiful large cream silk rose with three multi-colored feathers in her chestnut hair.

She hoped she would impress.

She had no doubt they would be.

* * *

"Oh yes, this will do…"

Sherlock breathed as he entered through the garden door into John's chambers. His eyes became enamored with the Cheval mirror. Thinking upon how John must have looked to himself. How much he would have loved to have seen his reaction.

Then he saw her. Beauty Defined.

"Oh, M'Lady…" Bowing deeply to her, he proffers his hand. She glides to him, ecstatic to be so well received.

"Ah, you have no where to go now, my lover," John spoke firmly, entering his chambers. Seeing the two of them he was instantly heated. Sherlock brought their Lady to his feet, she curtseyed, staying low, admitting submission for the moment. They all knew later that would not be the case.

* * *

"Welcome, M'Lady, are you certain you realize your position?" John growled lustily. "You do realize that you are compromised as of this very second. You are not in the company of gentlemen this evening." Grabbing her waist, he yanked her forward taking her lips. Grasping her breast roughly, running his nails into her flesh causing it to flush instantly.

Sherlock raised her hand and worshiped her palm with his mouth as it was the easiest thing to access at that moment. Nipping at her fingertips, he pushed her hand down his body to rest at the rise between his hips. "My husband is correct. You have interrupted our sport, therefore you must play."

"You aught to release me, I might be missed." She breathed, "It could be dangerous…"

"Oh, it already is _past_ dangerous fair maiden…"

* * *

Positioning her in front of the mirror, they removed their coats quickly.

"Let us worship you before we devour you," Once again, taking her in his arms, John pointedly grinds pushing her hips into him before clasping her breast again. Dipping his fingers in the side, he pushes her until her sweetly budding nipple peaks out. Yanking the flesh, taking it into his mouth, he gently grinds it with his teeth, sucking; making it taught.

Sherlock circles them both, looking appraisingly at the scene they create.

_Magnificence._

Coming back around, he molds himself to his husbands form. Breathing hot moist air on his sensitive ear, he gently nips at the sweet spot between where his ear ends and his neck begins.

_That blessed hollow._

_That was his. _

Bringing his hand around Sherlock palmed his doctor, but looked directly into the woman's eyes. He had learned much since their last encounter. He could not wait to use his knowledge to all their advantages.

"Watch, ma petite fille. Watch your beautiful destruction. By the end of the night you will have no innocence left. That is your price…"

* * *

"Mon…monsieur, please. Let me leave intact…" Oh she was enjoying this. Not often was she placed in this role, but she knew her boys could handle it. "Anything. All of my body, my mouth, my hands to please. Just not that…"

Blushing mightily, she gasped at John ministrations. He was being hard and fast. So very rough. Running his evening growth along her overly sensitive nipple while stretching the flesh causing just a small amount of the addictive agony he knew she enjoyed.

"Please, "M'lord, I beg of you…"

* * *

Griping into her bodice, John caused her corset to bite into her pleasingly, reminding her that she was in masterful hands where he was concerned. He knew the line well.

"You are at our leisure; it would be good of you to remember that. What we give, you _will _receive."

"Husband, tighten her stays so she may not scream…" a larcenous smirk crossing his face as John continued, "We even control the air you breathe mademoiselle, it would do you good to remember that!" Taking her mouth roughly now, he bit and held her lower lip growling insistently.

Releasing her breast momentarily they worked in concert. John on the front stays that held the coral silk to her corset, Sherlock on the back. Each taking an arm, they pull the bodice free and throw the parts to the ground.

Immediately, Sherlock grabs her, wrapping his long arm around her front, pulling her to him.

Biting her neck, he worships the beautiful woman. Motioning for his beloved, John joins them, returning this time for her other breast. Sherlock brings his other arm around to wrap his hand on John's hip, pulling him into them both.

"You are in so much trouble, madamosielle." Nuzzling, breathing her in deeply, he meets Sherlock over her shoulder for a lustful kiss before returning his attention to her décolleté. "So very, very much."

* * *

When they break the kiss, Sherlock pulls away to allow John to once again ensconce her, then yanks her stays stealing her breath momentarily. John breathes for the both of them as she acclimates to the new allowance and Sherlock trusses her stays.

"We did warn you," The detective sibilated. "You are no longer in command of yourself."

Coming back to John, his lover reached round the front of his vest, undoing all of the doctors stays, and gently removed it. Moving to the ties of his beloved's blouse, he ghosts his ravenous hands over his husband taking his time to undo them.

"How fine you have dressed for me this night," The detective purred. "How wonderful you felt beneath me."

Purring an assent, John continued to ravish Irene. Sherlock took a moment to undo his vest and ties before returning to his husband and their prize. Kneeling by John, he hoists her petticoats so that he may get to her. Yanking at the ties, he ripped at her diaphanous undergarments, pulling at them greedily. Putting his mouth to her soft mound he teased while pulling the last tie. Jutting his tongue widely over the silk, where her short tidy curls disappeared. Breathing lustily to cool the silk, he repeated the forward play.

Pulling the back of them down, he cradles her soft skin, kneeding into her. Working his way around the detective generously coats his fingers with saliva before pulling down the front as well. Taking her back into his mouth suckling her he inserts his small finger into her purring. He could feel her knees slightly buckle. Sitting back, finger still engaged, he stilled a moment before speaking.

"Mademoiselle, I will be gentle and take your purity last, but we both have needs to slake. Welcome the intrusion, belle que les étoiles. I wish to worship you." he whispers against her thigh. "You must be prepared."

* * *

"No, please, I beg…" Her words are swiftly cut off by John's mouth.

She reveled in their mastery. They had learned much since their first encounter.

John taking alpha was a given, but the way he allowed Sherlock to wrest control of the play was very deserving of attention as well. A very interesting give and take. She was glad to be caught between their affections.

The minute her lips were released she keened wildly. Sherlock had ripped an orgasm from her.

All at once as the world was almost righted she began cresting again; John was ready this time.

* * *

Holding their prize in his arms he was amazed when she trembled.

Then, most assuredly, came for them. Bringing his hand down he lovingly tousled his husbands hair, "See if you can do that again lover, she is quite magnificent."

Sherlock applied more pressure, adding a third finger, readying her. Pressing mercilessly on her clitoris with his callused thumb. Biting on her inner thigh, her mound, drawing her labia into his mouth. All for their pleasure. She deserved to be completely spoilt.

As she crested for the second time John held her hard and fast, biting her areola giving her heartbreaking pleasure.

"Oh, such a fine breed you are." The detective's voice was laced with dark motives, "How wonderful to break."

Standing, Sherlock came up from behind, swooping her up into his arms.

Lying her prone on the bed he swiftly finished the stays pulling her skirts off. John immediately covered her body, working her ferociously until she splintered a third time. Pulling her lower hair pins out, he handed them to his husband for safekeeping.

"See, there is much to be had mademoiselle, you will die a thousand times before this night is over."

* * *

Gently raking his nails along Sherlock's shoulders and up into his hair, he captured his mouth in supplication. His lover, opening for him, greeted his invasion with abandon. Delving into his mouth, enjoying the textures of their meeting tongues, he draws his husband's breath away, only to share his back, breathing for them both.

Loving the breath play, he continues until they are both starved for oxygen. Beckoning Irene, he gently places her to straddle Sherlock sitting her on his thighs.

"You are ours, M'Lady."

Not wanting to break the intimate contact of their bodies, he chose to slowly pace their lovemaking. Swathing his arms around her, he place one on her taught curls the other moving back down the taughtly wound body beneath him, John firmly took his husband's cock in hand. Pressing into his palm, then wrapping his hand around the wanton heat.

"Oh, that is so fine, my lover." Feeling the quality of the precome, rubbing it into the head and back beneath the foreskin with the pad of is thumb. Moving his hand back up between their faces, he has Irene lick his thumb from knuckle to pad, dragging it down his lower lip reveling in the taste. "So very, very fine."

Picking her up by her waist, he hovered her with the tip of Sherlock poised to delve. His husband's hands came up and covered the doctor's his eyes deep and wanting. Positioning himself now at her rear, he bit at her sweetly as she panted, exilerated.

"My sweetest lady, once we breech, you are going to fly. We promise." His breath hitching at the splendid picture his husband and Irene made. Looking into Sherlock's eyes in signal, they slowly impaled her onto Sherlock, controlling her movements leaving her hands free to touch herself. Canting her forward, John entered her next.

* * *

The two of them supporting and manipulating her.

Allowing her to lose control.

Allowing her to be free.

Sublime.

Skating one hand down John's side she grips him, wordlessly thanking him. She knew how hard it was to share. They were so spectacular together though. This was her one safe place to be loosed since Kate had passed. And really what were a few orgasms between friends?

"Ahhh! You are going to be the end of me!" She growled out.

Her two men taking so much; giving so much back. How could she not feel affection?

* * *

Wresting her hips harder, John accentuated every pummel with a snap of his hips, controlling the action for his twined lovers, wracking them all in pleasure.

"You are so beautiful…" Kissing her sheened back. "You are so very safe…"

Letting go, she loosed herself to her men, knowing it to be true.

* * *

Much later into night, Irene slept softly between them, all three were a tangle of limbs.

By morning she was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry things are stalled. Wanted to have updates and chapters ready by Friday.

Been sick. Lost another 4lbs. I'll be working on everything through the weekend

Thanks for your patience!

10/26

still writing my dears. rough week. anniversary of my mom and mother in law's passing. kinda snuck up on me...


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